


To dream of a life

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Series: Heart and Soul [3]
Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Character Death, Gen, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Anyone can give their Heart but it can only be given once. Fantine, young, naïve, and deep in love, gives it to Félix: the man she pours all her Soul to only to be left abandoned.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean, Fantine & Cosette Fauchelevent, Fantine & Jean Valjean, Fantine & Jean Valjean & Cosette, Fantine/Félix Tholomyès
Series: Heart and Soul [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745938
Kudos: 5





	To dream of a life

**Author's Note:**

> So it’s been bugging me a lot that there's hardly any fics with Fantine in it, which isn’t necessarily bad, but she is my favourite character from the brick. So I decided to write this: a story with her as the main character.

Fantine was blessed from birth. From when she was young she reflected the ideal look for all French women. She was more than a model to them. Beauty wasn’t just an aesthetic, it was a way of life. Her blonde hair didn’t mean she had recessive alleles, it meant she glowed in the eyes of others. Her blue eyes didn’t mean a mutation of genes, it meant she shined above everyone else. The fact that she had a little fat didn’t mean she was lucky enough to eat healthily- it meant she stood out from everyone else; above everyone else.  
In the social hierarchy, she was the triumphant victor. Life wasn’t a game in which she had to play. She had already won it.

As beauty was there to protect her, Fantine never took interest in books; not even learning how to read. Why would she need to? Everything was passed to her, gifted to her with love and adoration. She was living the best life, although she was blind to her fortunes.

Despite being born poor she speedily climbed the social ladder; she wondered why others couldn’t do it as well. Her inherited beauty had birthed obliviousness and pride. If she were not to have been easily swayed to accept the social standards of beauty, she would’ve been able to clearly see how lonely she was. Continually relying on her beauty, she was unable to observe love. Familial love, affectionate love, enduring love… None she had. With her empty smiles, she deluded herself to believe she was fulfilled. 

It was because of this way of thinking she looked down on those who were suffering. In return, the paupers stared at her in disgust but unable to disturb her.  
Due to the collective negative thoughts towards this young woman, no one shared their Soul with her. There was no sign of empathy for the woman. Jealousy had conquered the town and Fantine was completely alone. There was no possibility of anyone loving her.

From roaming the dirty streets with her clean with her handsome dress, she soon became bored of the people in the town. Since they disliked her, she was unable to form friendships. The absence of peers made her lonely- not to the point it was visible from the eyes of the public, no, she was still regarded to be a happy-go-lucky blonde to them. But inside, she craved for the touch of others. It was so deep in her subconscious that she didn't even realise she wanted someone to talk to and someone to be held by and loved.

Most of all, she wanted someone to share her Soul with. From whispers that always diverted away from her, she was able to pick up on certain stories. These stories were about those who they loved, and the amount of Souls they shared together. Their tales revealed the rosy world of love. If Fantine closed her eyes she could imagine her life being perfect- where there were people who loved her, cared for her. She could feel it. The bright Souls searching for her and lifting her off her feet. In the streams of Souls, she felt cosy and safe. She would fall asleep in it. There was no worry about waking up to find out they had ceased to exist. Unlike when she opened her eyes in reality to find herself being mocked by others. As always, she wore a vacant smile and carried on her day.

As townspeople were distant towards her, Fantine had to see beauty and wonder from inanimate objects. That way, she would not be rejected. Above all things, she preferred flowers. They were specifically picked, meaning they were the best and were admired by everyone, just because of how they looked. Flowers didn’t have to feel a void from not receiving true affection; no matter what they did, they received it. In fact they represented deep, truthful emotions. Fantine had never felt them and thus were fascinated by them.

Sometimes when nobody was looking she would press the fresh petals against her cheek to stimulate a stroke of a cheek. But all the flowers she bought would end up in the same fate: they would wither and colourless. She could never throw them away in that form. It wasn’t necessarily pity, but of empathy. Empathy in the fact that she could understand how they felt. She could identify them.

But one day when she was buying flowers again, a young man bought them for her instead. Glancing sideways to the man beside her, she was able to see his golden short hair with a clean-shaven face. Without much thought on who the man was, she began to blush. She muttered her thanks and bowed slightly. It was rare for her to do so, it felt alien. Just like how a man noticed her in this way being foreign. Fantine looked down so she could hide her obvious, wide smile.  
The man gave the warmest chuckle. He was different. He was kind, mature, and, possibly, loving. And it was because of this observation she wasn’t going to let him go.

It was as if life had finally noticed her solitude and donated her with her dreams. This man, this charming man, was her real life fantasy, alive and breathing.  
“Tholomyès. Félix Tholomyès.” The man’s voice was smooth- complete with confidence.  
“Fantine.” She gave a tiny bow to him once more.  
She failed to see he didn’t bow back.

On the first day they met, they walked through a park. Much of their conversations revolved around the poetic idea of romance. As Fantine had never paid attention to studying, this was the only time she gave her full attention and absorbed every word that came out of his attractive lips.  
From time to time he would quote a poem she had neve heard of. At some moments he would discuss deep philosophical thoughts with him, not that she could reply. All she was able to do was to be completely enamoured by him, and that was no hard task. 

On their second day of knowing each other, he rowed for her on a boat. In the middle of the lake, they shared their first kiss. He opened up by being new to this town and that he was being rebellious by running away from his parents as they demanded maturity from him. Fantine couldn’t understand; he was mature in her eyes.

Their third day involved meeting his friends and their girlfriends. At first Fantine was hesitant, feeling like a prize. But he gently stroked her hair and kissed her on her cheek. Smiling, she agreed to meet them. 

In her first illusion of love, she saw no fault in being called the Blonde by Félix and his friends: Listolier, Fameuil, and Blachevelle. Her pseudonym extended to their mistresses  
Dahlia, Zéphine, and Favourite respectively. For the first time, Fantine, or ‘the Blonde’ had friends. Yet she was still deaf to their real names.

All the mistresses were recognised for their beauty.  
Dahlia was named after the flower of the same name. She was perfumed and radiant and was flirtatious with Blachevelle, unable to keep her hands away from the young man.  
Zéphine was a new way of pronouncing ‘Josephine’. This way, she was unique. Her name suited her as although she had brown hair and hazel eyes, she stood out from others with her smooth skin and her perfect figure. Fantine admitted she deserved to be special and stand out. It was no mystery how she was able to attract the attention of Fameuil.  
Lastly there was Favourite, named this way due to have been from England. As of then she had completely embraced her French identity, and the only English element left in her was her nickname. This didn’t matter to them as they referred to her as an English woman. Not even did Favourite mind this. Instead, she continuously stroked Blachevelle’s face, murmuring how much she found him handsome.

Fantine didn’t feel out of place as Félix called her ‘the Blonde’, in reference to her sunny hair and personality. She was among women who were just like her. She belonged.

The mist of love is thick and is hard to see through. It becomes easier as a person becomes more experienced. For Fantine, this was her first time. Unlike Favourite, Dahlia, and Zéphine who had dated several times despite being so young. They were able to separate teasing and flirtation from actual love. Fantine didn’t know this rule.

One time, as they were strolling through the streets to flaunt their beauty, Fantine asked, “I have been thinking about giving my Heart for Félix.”  
Collectively, the women laughed.  
“Blonde,” Favourite shook her head, “Don’t you give something so significant and precious to a man like him.”  
“What do you mean?” Fantine asked.  
Zéphine held her hand, “Men pass as life goes on. They never stay.”  
“Félix will stay.” Fantine stated as a fact.  
The women laughed once more.  
“I forgot what innocence looked like.” Dahlia exhaled, her smile still written on her face.

As they roamed the streets, they were sneered at, disgraced by the paupers, not that this mattered as they were above them in the hierarchy. The women casually insulted them. Believing this was a rightful and just behaviour, Fantine joined in, giggling along. She was never going to join them, so why not mock them, Fantine thought about the paupers of the streets. Remorse didn’t catch her yet.

There was a reason why Fantine believed Félix was going to stay for eternity. He had been whispering about their future together. There were talks of marriage and children. This of course made Fantine feel overjoyed. Especially when she could feel the baby. She sensed it. And thus she could see their future.

So she gave her Heart to him. This was a promise of commitment from herself. Félix would only know of this if she told him. A Heart, she remembered, was only for one’s lover who they knew were going to spend eternity forever with. Once given, it couldn’t be gained back. But why would Fantine worry herself with that? She knew she was going to spend her life with him forever. She couldn’t wait for the wedding to happen. Then, she would reveal she gave his Heart to him, as that is the most usual time to give someone their Heart.

Félix wrapped his arms around her and asked her for her Soul. In a flash, Fantine remembered what Dahlia, Zéphine, and Favourite told her. Not to give everything away for a man. However Félix wasn’t just a man. He was her man. So she agreed. Carefully, she poured her Soul to him, but it was never enough; he wanted more.  
Fanitne ended up giving all her Soul to him. When she asked him for his Soul. He promised he would give them to her the next day, in a romantic gesture.

The next day had the gathering of Félix and his friends with their mistresses. For the whole day they were chatting lively and laughing. All of Fantine’s attention was on Félix. Patiently, she waited for his Soul and his Heart.

At the end of their meal, Félix and his friends excused himself for a ‘surprise’. Automatically, Fantine touched her lower abdomen. She was ready.

Favourite chatted loudly about hints of a proposal. Fantine giggled along. Dahlia was convinced the surprise was directly at her. Zéphine finally proposed that there was a surprise for all of them. Excited, these women waited with Fantine as the most impatient. The moment was so close- she would have achieved the perfect dream in a couple of seconds.

They waited.

And waited.

The owner of the restaurant came up to them and handed them a letter. “The gentlemen have paid for the food and left.” He then excused himself.  
Fantine’s smile faded, confused.

The women huddled together to read the letter apart from Fantine.  
Dahlia gasped several times, “They’ve abandoned us for women back home that their parents have set up for them.”  
“Typical.” Favourite commented.  
Zéphine looked up to see Fantine on the other side of the table. “Blonde, do you want to read?”  
The situation finally unveiled itself to her. In shame and with tears in her eyes, she lied, “I already knew this was going to happen, I don’t need to read it.”  
Zéphine slowly began to smile. Just like Fantine predicted. These women were experienced- everything they warned about to her were true. They were prepared to be abandoned. She wasn’t.

As the night began to end, the women dispersed. At last Fantine was alone again. This time it wasn’t her who caused this solitude- she was abandoned like trash. 

It was impossible to return to her old life now that she was an Empty. She had no Heart and no Soul. She was lower than those living in the streets.

It was rapid. Her life fell so quickly. If she wanted food she had to steal or beg. If she wanted to be warm she had to forget she once had a home. If she wanted to be invisible, she had to… No. Fantine didn’t want death. She was stronger. She had to think about her baby.

As her bump became visible, she was shamed and laughed at by the people. She didn’t know how long she would be pregnant but she didn’t know what she wanted. If the baby took long to be born, she would be continually mocked at. If the baby was born soon, she would have to take care of the baby which she was terrified of as she couldn’t even take care of herself.  
No. She was going to be healthy. So her child would be healthy too. As a result she sold her golden hair, once described to be ‘sunny’ by Félix and his friends, to a wigmaker. As blonde hair was desired greatly, she was able to afford a place to live. But it wasn’t enough. Two months later she had to sell her front two teeths- the most desired teeths. Since hardly anyone would sacrifice them, she received enough money to survive for another month.

Walking down the street, to buy healthy food, the people watched in shock and horror. Fantine didn’t want to hide her situation anymore. With her almost-bald head and her missing teeth, she smiled widely, not from happiness, but from knowing her future. She knew it wasn’t going to get better. She knew where she was headed. For the first time there was no mystery.

Eventually, her money ran out. She begged for more time as she felt she could give birth soon. The landowner, although slightly sympathetic, kicked her out. It was already shameful enough to have an Empty living in their building, they couldn’t afford any more burdens and sacrifices.

Out in the streets once more, Fantine wept. She felt a kick, as if her baby was trying to comfort her. In gratitude, she stroked her womb. Laughing quietly, she realised how long it had been since she was not burdened by the fear of tomorrow. Thinking about the source of her bubbles of laughs, she decided the name of her child would be Euphraise, meaning a good cheer. At that point, she knew that her little Euphraise would bring nothing but sunshine.

It was at this night when a man approached her, asking for her health. Believing this was a trick, she tried to call for help. The man acted guilty as panic spread through his body. Yet he still stayed by her side, even when the Police were approaching. He introduced himself. He was Monsieur Madeleine. 

When police officers arrived, the leading man was called Inspector Javert. She recognised him from living in the streets. He was everywhere, in the darkness of every shadow, lurking by, arresting criminals and even innocents. She shivered as she searched for Madeleine for protection.

The two men seemed to talk with their eyes. The tension was so different from what they were saying.  
“What is happening here?” Inspector Javert boomed.  
“Nothing.” Madeleine assured.  
“Are you alright?” Javert asked, his voice softer.  
For a second Fantine thought that was directed to her, but it wasn’t. Javert was clearly watching Madeleine. “Sorry, Inspector, he was helping me. I misinterpreted his actions.”  
Javert put his hands against his back. “Not much to expect from an Empty.”  
Fantine knew Javert was an Empty too. Everyone knew. But he was exempt from the criticisms of being one. This was something she wished to have as well. It was the dream of every Empty. 

Fantine hoped this was the last she would’ve seen of Inspector Javert. But this wasn’t so.

Monsieur Madeleine was amiable to her and was compassionate. He brought her to his home in which she stayed. In fear, she never took a step outside. She didn’t want to lose this luck.

As time passed, Fantine became tied to the bed, always sweating out of exhaustion. Madeleine tried to comfort her by talking about how the baby was going to grow into a wonderful and caring person, just like their mother.  
Fantine whispered for that was all she could manage, “We’ll raise her together.”  
“It’s a girl?” He asked, smiling innocently.  
“Yes. I feel it.” She was deliriously happy, safe in the man’s home. “She is my everything.”

There were three nurses in his home and they did most of the caring, especially when Monsieur Madeleine disappeared mysteriously without a word. Worrying consumed her and the situation went further south as her water broke. The nurses rushed to help her and deliver her baby. They couldn’t go to hospitals as they would not accept Empties. A person receives their Soul from their parents. If their parent was an Empty… Fantine didn’t want to think about poor Euphrasie without any Soul.

As she was screaming in pain, she squeezed her hand and hallucinated Madeleine beside her. In a blink, he disappeared. It was Sister Simplice holding her hand. 

Fantine screamed once more and the door opened to reveal a man rushing to help her. It was Madeliene. Finally, Fantine felt safe again. No harm was coming to her daughter as he would protect her. The world outside wouldn’t be so cruel to her when she would be with Monsieur Madeleine. 

Then Fantine heard music to her ears. To others it was just a baby crying, but to Fantine, it was heaven.

Carefully Sister Simplice washed the baby and gave her to Fantine. It was indeed a girl. Fantine laughed with love, staring at her baby. Little Euphrasie.  
“What’s her name?” Madeleine sat on the bed while the nurses excused themselves.  
“Euphrasie.” Her eyes didn’t lift from her child. “When we’re happy, we’ll call her Cosette. When we want to scold her, not that she could do any wrong, we’ll use her full name.”  
“And what is that?” Madeleine stroked Cosette’s head.  
“Euphrasie Fauchelevent.”  
He froze.  
“That is your last name?” Fantine confirmed.  
He gulped, then smiled as he met her eyes. “Of course.”

Her attention turned back to her little Cosette. She spoke, frail from lack of energy, “I will take care of you. From now until forever. I am your mother. Loving Fantine.”  
Madeleine smiled, watching her closely. It seemed he adored her as much as he adored the baby. 

Together, they looked like mother and father with their newborn baby. Fantine felt exhausted and trusted Madeleine to cradle her. In his arms, Cosette seemed so comfortable, easily falling asleep.  
With love and admiration, she saw her future with Madeleine. He was cradling her with so much love reflecting in his large black eyes. She never knew the colour black could shine.  
Fantine tiredly smiled, amazed, “I feel it. I feel the love. You’re giving your Soul to her. I can feel it. Thank you.” She spoke softly, the world becoming darker.  
“We will raise her together, just like you said.”  
As if to restore her energy, she gave Cosette back to her. It worked as light chased away the shadows in her vision. She smiled widely and muttered, “Hello, my petite flower.” still amazed by her baby.

Then the door opened wide. “Valjean!” The voice called out.  
Fantine froze, recognising the voice. Could it be that Javert was after her?  
But instead it was Madeleine who was alert. Quickly, he tried to rush out of the room before benign pushed back in. “Valjean!” Javert shouted in his low voice.  
Fantine began to panic, not understanding the situation. “Madeleine!” She shouted after, her baby couldn’t be abandoned like she was!  
“He is no Monsieur!” Javert explained as he armed himself with the police baton, “He is a criminal! Jean Valjean!”  
“Please!” Made- Valjean called out, begging.

Upon comprehending that she had been tricked, Fantine held her baby closer to her arms as she began to breathe faster and heavier. She stood after weeks of not being able to and tried to stumble to the exit. She had to escape this prison. Lord knew what Valjean would do to her.

Step by step, more and more energy was lost. Even with all her love and desperation, she couldn’t leave. Crying, she tried to reach for the door as the two men fought out of sight from her.

The door became blurry and the world began to darken. She predicted what was going to happen. With her remaining energy she held her baby close and fell backwards in order for Cosette not to be harmed.

Before she could hit the floor, Valjean caught her. When he looked down, he saw Fantine had closed her eyes. In her arms, Cosette began to cry. Valjean delicately held Cosette in his arm and hushed her. He gently set down Fantine and asked for help from the frightened nurses outside.

Throughout the whole process Valjean wasn’t interrupted. He was overcome and controlled by care and love.  
Javert paused, watching him. He knew well Valjean wasn’t the father, yet Cosette felt so… right in his arms. Javert began to shed a tear.

Jean Valjean knew he needed to ask for leniency as he searched for the perfect family for Cosette, as painful as that thought felt. However, when he turned to see Javert, he had disappeared. Feeling liberated, Valjean held Cosette close to him, whispering promises that he would be the best parent for her and that no harm should befall on her.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed some stuff such as her giving birth while she’s with Valjean. But hey at least this means she suffered for less time than in the Brick. I feel guilty since this is a fic and she couldn’t be alive and still had to die… She could’ve been such a good mother. Maybe one day I’ll write about how Cosette could’ve been if she was raised by Fantine (I can’t imagine Valjean not being there also. AND JAVERT) !!


End file.
